


From the Journal of Private Ludwig Beilschmidt

by the_majestic_radish



Category: All Quiet on the Western Front - All Media Types, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Feliciano Vargas x Ludwig Beilschmidt - Freeform, Germany x Italy - Freeform, Inspired by the plot of All Quiet on the Western Front, Ok now for real tags that you actually searched for, These are journal entries Ludwig made during his time fighting in WW1, Wartime, gerita - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:52:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9305540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_majestic_radish/pseuds/the_majestic_radish
Summary: Private Ludwig Beilschmidt is a soldier in WW1. He keeps a personal journal, in which he writes home to Feliciano Vargas. He writes, telling of the atrocities of being enlisted, fighting and war. He hopes that, should he be killed,  his journal will find its way into the hands of his love.Kind of a Crossover: Hetalia and All Quiet on the Western FrontOriginally posted on FF.net





	1. Chapter 1

From the Journal of Private Ludwig Beilschmidt  
To my Feli: In hopes this will find you well,

#1

It's been 14 days now, Feli, of our unit relieving the front lines, and it has been nearly a full year since I have seen your ever smiling face. Life has not gotten any easier. Everyone seems to be close to death or dead. One of the soldiers, I believe his name was Franz, lost his leg from the thigh down. I don’t think he will make it through the next day or two. Müller already has his sights set on getting his boots. God knows how we could all use new boots. 

This war is awful, absolutely awful. It is nothing like our schoolmaster's told us it would be. They told us of the glory of war, and how we, “The Iron Youth”, would become proud heroes of war. That is not the case. And it never will be. The entire elder generation is convinced that they are acting for the best- in a way that costs them nothing.

Feli, it has all been a lie, from day one.

They have betrayed us, and in no small fashion. They told us of the ‘glorious’ battles fought throughout all of history; of how men come back as heroes. But now, after only a few days on the front, it is clear to me, that what they told us, were merely fairy tales, and told nothing of the reality or the truth of what war really is.

We are continuously fighting for their cause, following their orders and losing our lives. This war we are fighting, is because of them, and they are doing nothing to stop it, except for sending us out to fight their battles. So many have died, more than I can bear to count.

We are no longer the Iron Youth, I am no longer so naive as to think our commanders are the infallible men in this war that you and I thought them to be.  
I know now that I am continuously fighting not only the enemy, but the thoughts of losing any hope I once had to come out of this alive and being able to see you again. 

I know that I must continue onward, I must push through this, despite our superiors betrayal. I will not go down without a fight, I will persevere. If not for myself, then for you.


	2. Chapter 2

#2

Each day seems to drag on forever. The days without any movement are rather boring. Some of the men sit on our makeshift toilet for hours on end, reading mail and laughing. I suppose all this waiting around is better than the alternative.

Men are still being taken to the medical tent, waiting for treatment. The beds are all taken. Each time there is a new soldier to be treated, the medics have to wait around for others to pass on so those beds can be used as soon as possible. It is a gruesome sight.

Oh how I wish to go home and see you again, Feli. I am not certain how much longer I can stand to see all the bodies and all the death. I have seen some of the strongest and the best soldiers from other units be struck down. I know that I am at least near their level of training, and even still, if they don’t make it, what chance do I have? 

The classical conception of the Fatherland held by my teachers resolved itself here on the front into a renunciation of personality. No amount of training can really prepare me, or anyone else, for the reality of the battlefield, despite what our commanders say. In a real battle, you have to ignore any emotion; fear, anger, pain. All those emotions have to disappear. Otherwise, make one impulsive move, and you’re dead.

Our teachers glorified the war so we would enlist. I didn’t even think twice when I enlisted. Now I wish I could’ve known the truth behind the wall of illusions and fairy-tales.


	3. Chapter 3

#3

Feli, do you remember our younger days together? When you and I were just kids, with not a care in the world? Before we graduated into the higher grades, before this war began.  
We spent our lazy summer days in the fields of cornflowers. You would always make flower crowns and insist that I wear one. If I refused, I remember how you would always, without fail, comment on how my eyes were the same color as the flowers, and say how they would look wonderful in my hair. If that didn’t work, you would just whine until I finally had to give in. Sometimes you acted like such a girl.

When we entered the secondary level, that was when our so called ‘proud’ history was first taught to us. It was probably when I first even thought of enlisting as a soldier, even though you and I were only twelve. Only six years later, after years of studying instead of playing, I enlisted.

Feli, I am so glad you didn’t enlist. You are safe, and that thought is what keeps me going. Especially when we are only a few miles from the front lines.

The pressure on our unit is now decreased, but only by a little; “reinforcements have [finally] arrived. . . they are about two years younger than [the rest] of us”.  
I noticed that Kropp nudged Bäumer and they both began to strut around the young ones, like old experts of battle.

All of the recruits look fresh out of the hands of our previous schoolmasters’, their eyes tell their story. They still believe what they were told in school.

How could they just leave home? They have the rest of their life ahead of them at 18, but now they have practically thrown it away.

The irony is that I was much the same. I only wish that I had known what I was giving up when I enlisted. I gave up not only time and possibly my future with you, but my youth, has also forever been lost to this god awful war.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is kind of like a head cannon of mine, that Ludwig (Germany) kept a journal while fighting in wars and adressed this one to Feliciano (Italy).
> 
> This was, admittedly, an English assignment I had to do a few years ago and, naturally, i took the opportunity to write a kinda gay, gay fanfic... then make my rather religious teacher read/grade it. So yeah. That was fun. I thought I'd post it here and just see what happens. Please lemme know what ya'll think and if you would be interested in reading more chapters.
> 
> -Radish, out!


End file.
